This chapter is dedicated to BeautifulTrauma, who wanted to see Uther finding out about Arthur running around with Lady Clarissa ;p
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Merlin Pendragon was almost positive he was having some kind of fever dream. And all of this was just some really vivid dream concocted from his own nightmares. Perhaps Merlin had never woken up after he collapsed on his bed when he made it back to his room after Arthur had hit him. Maybe his uncle hadn't found him in time, and Merlin had gotten some kind of fast active infection from his cracked wrist that took his life after it had spread to his heart. And this was his own personal hell. Forced to live out the banquet his death would cause him to miss…it had to be hell if he was stuck looking at Arthur's face for all eternity.
If he was stuck with Arthur's hand between his legs…
This was an entirely new situation Merlin had found himself in, and he didn't know how to react. His hands fluttered all around his thigh anxiously, not sure if he should try and pull or shove Arthur's hand away from him. The heat of it soaked through his pants…until it was the one thing he could feel. It was maddening in the worse of ways, hissing right through his teeth as Arthur squeezed his leg tauntingly. Teasingly…silently telling Merlin there was nothing he could do about the placement on his leg. And the constant slow circling rub Arthur was doing with fingers against his inner thigh felt as if razor wire was cutting in his skin. The older man had not EVER touched Merlin there before…
Oh, there had been plenty of times Arthur had touched him where he didn't want to be touched. His wrists were often a key focal point, when Arthur had been weird and kept trying to hold him down on whatever flat surface they happened to be near. His hips were also a place Arthur might've placed a hand, jerking his hips into a different place if the prince felt like rearranging how Merlin was standing. His legs…there'd been dozens of times where Arthur had stood close to him, pressing their legs together so Merlin wouldn't wiggle free himself. But his thighs…Merlin couldn't think of one single instance where Arthur had placed his hand somewhere so…intimate. It would have made Merlin's face turn brighter and redder then a cherry, if he wasn't so absolutely horrified.
All Arthur had to do was raise his hand two or three inches, and he would be touching Merlin somewhere nobody had touched him before-other then his own mother, until he was old enough to bathe himself. And Merlin could feel it when his leg spasmed, the muscle jerking involuntarily at the idea …surely Arthur didn't realize how close he was to touching Merlin's private area. But Arthur squeezed his leg again and Merlin hissed through his teeth, hunching forward so close to the table, his head was almost touching his place. He had his shoulders shaking, and his hands twitched and fluttered uselessly…
It was as if Arthur was 'trying' to get a reaction out of him.
And it was all his fault for trying to be bold again.
Merlin had definitely gotten a reaction out of Arthur, but not the kind he wanted.
'You are going to regret that.' Arthur's words thundered in his mind as if it was being played on an endless loop. Which caused Merlin to tremble for far more reasons then just that hand touching him. Clawing at him. Carving a home for itself between his legs as if the prince thought his hand belonged nowhere else in the world. Was there really no place too far for Arthur? Surely the prince knew that other men didn't go around touching other men in places such as this…or Merlin had never heard of such a thing in all his life. Who the fuck just went around grabbing men by their thighs…and Merlin's thigh was so slim from his poor diet, the entirely of Arthur's hand could have covered it completely.
"People of Camelot." Bayard suddenly called out across the room, silencing the brief chatter that had erupted when the Camelot King had finally finished his speech. Merlin glanced up through his eyelashes, his face troubles and in pain while he continued to hunch over his plate…Merlin was practically begging with his eyes for Bayard to look over in his direction to see what was going on. The table practically hid what the prince was doing to him-and Merlin's whole body shuddered when Arthur pressed his fingers particularly deep into a soft and sensitive muscle in his thigh. But King Bayard had acted so suspicious of Arthur earlier…surely if he saw Merlin's face he would know something was wrong. But then the Red King was shifting around to listen to Bayard's speech, and Uther was accidentally blocking Merlin from view. Even if the other king turned around from where he was addressing the large crowd, he would have not been able to see Merlin. And what little hope Merlin had been holding onto for assistance was dwindling away into nothingness… "Before I sign this treaty, I would like to make a toast. For a good many years, we have been mortal enemies, and the blood of our men stains along the ground from the walls of Camelot to the gates of Mercia. And though we remember those who had tragically died, we must not allow anymore to join them."
It was as good a speech as any, but Merlin didn't have time to appreciate it. Or really allow the message of it to sink into his skull…he needed help. His husband was assaulting him in a whole new way, and he didn't know what to do, and he needed 'somebody' to freak out just as he was. Just so the consort could acknowledge he wasn't crazy at all…the man touching him like this was just plain weird. But Arthur looked as calm as could be…nobody looking at the prince would've guessed he was currently scraping his nails tantalizing onto Merlin, trying to reach the skin through his pants. But Merlin shot a helpless look towards Gaius, only to realize he could not see him with Uther in the way. And he shot a pained look towards Morgana, but the Lady was watching Bayard's little speech with a slightly fascinated gaze in her eyes. But when Merlin tried to look over his shoulder towards Gwen-needing some kind of support with this-Arthur did something to him that caused Merlin's leg to jolt. God. All the prince had to do was push a little to get a reaction out of Merlin.
Since his thighs were so damn sensitive. But what else was to be expected. Places that weren't ever touched-except for when Merlin bathed-were meant to be sensitive when there was sudden simulation he wasn't used too. Stimulation that was already too much for his weak and frail body to be able to handle.
But Merlin was on his own with this. And he couldn't just sit here for hours with Arthur rubbing up and down his thigh as if he was trying to memorize every nerve ending and cell the consort had. Trying to memorize every muscle or what push would make Merlin jolt in his seat or what prod would cause his leg to spasm out of control. He needed to gain control of the situation somehow, without making a major scene. Since this was just embarrassing, knowing he had no control over how his body was reacting.
"Why do you even care so much about what I think of that guy's appearance?" Merlin choked out, squeezing his eyes shut as Arthur gave his thigh a particularly hard rub that had his body shuddering. Merlin could vaguely note that one of the Mercian serving girls had just entered the room, and she was carrying a large rectangler shaped box in her hands, as her arms nearly trembled from both the size and weight of what was in the box, bringing it to King Bayard. "It's not as if what I think about another guy effects you in anyway…I think you can remove your hand from my person now."
But Merlin must have made the biggest mistake of his life by dare suggesting Arthur no longer touch him. The prince was narrowing his eyes in sharp contemplation, before the blond was practically melding his hand onto Merlin's thigh. And he gurgled in shock, the heat rising to his face in humiliation as Arthur's fingers spread out, claiming far more of the insides of his thigh then he had before. Merlin's leg tried to jolt, and it would've hit the underside of the table-did the other man seriously not realize just how close he was too…Merlin could practically feel the heat of Arthur's hand against him. Just a inch more now and he would've been touching him-but the prince had a steady grip on him. And Merlin couldn't move it nearly as high, his body reacting strangely (his stomach was rushing with heat) when he realized he couldn't move it.
"I don't think you are in any positions to be giving me any kind of orders, Merlin. If I want to touch you here, then I do think that is my godly right as your husband. Or do only the others who make you their whore gets to touch you there?" Arthur hissed at him under his breath, absolutely pissed that others-like that manservant-got free access to Merlin, and it was Arthur the boy told to move. Vaguely, they could've saw Bayard undoing the latch to the box given to him and the lid popping wide open. But they were in a world entirely of their own making. With this fog of heat and possession and anger surrounding only the two of them. "Because I personally do think I have far more right then any others to do what I want when I want when you are concerned. Merlin Pendragon, so you might as well get used to things like this."
Merlin's jaw dropped, Arthur not even pretending to listen to what was going on with the kings as he kept his focus sorely on Merlin's face. Watching as Merlin tried to slide back, out of Arthur's grip. But Merlin was pushed under the table as far as he could go thanks to Arthur, and he couldn't scoot back with the back of the chair preventing him. But should he try to go forward to shake him off, there wasn't a chance that Arthur wouldn't have been touching him 'there.' Merlin was stuck. But he tried clamping his thighs harder as his fingers fluttered…he grabbed onto the armrests of his chair and squeezed them tightly beneath the palm of his hands. Maybe if he clamped Arthur's fingers, the prince would pull away. But Merlin had to bite back a whimper when it had the opposite effect. The prince easily opened up his fingers and forced Merlin's legs open a little bit more, sliding his hand down until his fingers were hidden between Merlin's thighs all the way down to the knuckle. Merlin was too weak-his body frail-to be able to try fighting against the groping touch.
Merlin blinked rapidly, raising his eyes to see only the back of Uther, and the consort dug his nails into the arms of the chair, imprinting the curves of his nails as Arthur was trying to make Merlin's remember him in strange new ways. He felt too hot. Too unsure. Not understanding. Confused. And the consort did not know what his 'dates' had to do with about any of this. Even if Merlin had been running around on dates like Arthur kept insisting, not one of them would've touched Merlin there. There was no reason to touch Merlin between his legs. No reason for a hand to wonder between his thighs as Arthur was doing now. No reason for a hand to ease just a little further up and try touching him privately. He wasn't a girl. Nothing was going to happen if Arthur touched him…in that place. But perhaps Arthur was confusing Merlin with a certain girl he did spend his time with between her thighs.
"I think-I think-" Merlin inhaled a sharp breath as Arthur slid his hand all the way down, his hand so much larger and so much bigger then Merlin's thigh, pulling Merlin's leg closer to him. And Merlin's leg trembled but he had no choice with his weak state, other then opening his legs so Arthur could play with him more easier. Merlin squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Bayard was inspecting whatever was inside of that chest he had brought out, making sure that everything was in order. Merlin shot a breath out his nose, and tried his best to ignore Arthur's increasingly exploratory fingers, as Arthur grabbed onto the underside of Merlin's thigh and picked up his leg a little. Leaving Merlin's private bits more vulnerable and open then before…with how silky his clothes were, the consort might as well have been naked while Arthur touched him. "I think that you might have the wrong idea. I definitely do not have the parts that you are looking for. But I am sure if you find Lady Clarissa, she'll be more then pleased to let you touch her there. You'll at least get a better reaction out of her then you will me-"
Merlin emitted a sharp gasp of distress when Arthur dug his blunt nails into his thigh, a hateful look on his face because of Merlin's inability to stop bringing Clarissa up. And Merlin met his gaze with half lidded eyes, his body was once again hunching forward in an effort to protect himself from all the burning touches Arthur was giving to him. And Merlin could see the moment Arthur's fingers stilled against his thigh and was able to see the moment Arthur's eyes slid down until he could see for himself where his hand was. Could see what it was he was doing with Merlin's body-he might've known but actually seeing it with his own eyes was enough to force the breath out of Arthur-and Merlin was sure this would've been the moment Arthur jerked his hand away. Merlin was just the stupid consort, right? What if he forgot everything the other man had done to him and tried kissing him or something as ridiculously as repulsive as that. Wasn't that what a woman would do if a man touched her between her legs? He knew better then anybody how Arthur detested being considered gay through marriage…but showing it would've been a step too far.
'Touching him' was a step too far…and all Merlin had to do was wait for the moment Arthur panicked and jerked away his hand. Then Merlin could finally breathe again. Breathe in something that wasn't burning hot air that scraped along his insides as if Arthur was trying to fill up his body with more then a few finger touches in odd places. But Arthur did not immediately move his hand, his eyes shooting between the consort's face and down to where Merlin's legs continued to tremble under the strain of this whole situation. Again and again as if he didn't know what to do, didn't know what his next move was going to be…and Merlin practically screamed at him inside his head. It wasn't that bloody hard! Just take your hand off!
But…Arthur met his gaze one more time. And Merlin could see a strangely uncertain but determined look filling up his eyes, the blue shining threateningly. Daring for Merlin to try screaming and letting the whole room know what was being done to him under the table. And Arthur's hand moved, the consort's mouth falling open once again when the other was deliberately pressing on that spot he'd been rubbing. Which caused the sensitivity of Merlin's body to spike, the cold silk rubbing against his heated skin. Merlin's breath was frozen in his lungs as the prince forced his hand into moving more purposely, with more intent then he had been before…rubbing and rubbing and rubbing that one spot he'd been focused on. Slow. Cautious. Deliberate. His eyes focused entirely on the reaction showing on Merlin and his face and the consort could feel the wave of panic as it descended on him in madness. Arthur wasn't planning on stopping. Arthur wasn't going to let Merlin go. Because the prince cared far more about making Merlin uncomfortable to his touch, then he cared about his own sensitive boundaries …a straight man would not touch Merlin like this. A straight man would not make Merlin shudder and whimper and start trembling until it felt as if his body would never stop.
Too much…
Too fast…
His body seemed to know what Merlin's brain did not…
And…
S
Merlin couldn't contemplate what was going on…
And all the while, Arthur's eyes were on Merlin's face. The prince was just 'looking' at him. Looking and looking and not stopping, and Merlin had never been in a more vulnerable or compromising position in his entire life. He wanted it to stop but Arthur did not. And Arthur would touch him until he got bored. And Merlin could do nothing but try to ride out all the waves of overpowering emotion his body didn't know how to catalogue. And Merlin just had to breathe through it, but the fuzziness in his brain only seemed to worsen because all he could smell was his husband. The woodsy pine scent Arthur carried with him whenever he went, making his brain feel as if he was spinning. His tight grip on the chair being the one and only thing holding him into place when the earth itself didn't make any sense.
"As a symbol of our goodwill and of our newfound friendship with Camelot, I present these ceremonial goblets to King of Camelot, to your son, and to your son's lovely consort who has joined your family just recently. A bleated wedding gift to celebrate that times are changing and hopefully, all these changes will make our world a better place." Bayard said to the crowd in large…Merlin could barely understand the man though, as Bayard held up the three cups to show them off to the crowd, his back turning away from the royal family to show everybody the generous gift he was donating to their family. Bayard might as well have just spoken in some weird and foreign language he'd never heard before, for all Merlin was concerned with. "Let these gifts be a reminder to future generations of what has passed by us today. And let us live with the hope that our friendship will last until our kingdoms have grown old and passed on from the minds of those who live today to witness the beginning."
And Merlin wished he could listen to this speech. Anything other then Arthur pushing and prodding and RUBBING him and…Merlin's only hope had been when Arthur realized what he was doing. But he had. And he didn't stop. And that hope was gone. And Merlin needed too…he needed too…the dark haired boy needed to man up and shove Arthur's hand away from his thighs. Needed to scream and let the whole room know what kind of freak Arthur was…what kind of weirdo he was…how he liked to touch young boys in between their legs…how he liked to touch MERLIN between his legs. It did not matter how many times Merlin opened his mouth to do it though, his face growing hotter and sticker as sweat formed and made his clothes stick to his body…every time he would try it was as if Arthur sensed it. And would purposely roll the little meat clinging in Merlin's thigh between his fingers, the prince would pinch his skin or rub his thumb harshly against whatever sensitive spot he managed to flesh out. And then the only thing coming from Merlin's mouth was this ragged breath as he struggled to get his bearings into place.
"What is he talking about, Arthur?" And all of a sudden, the King was just…there. Having caught the tail end of what the consort had said, and using Bayard's distraction-as he was showing off the goblets to the greater population watching-to get some answers. Both Merlin and Arthur froze exactly where they were. With Merlin's thighs trembling in disarray, with Arthur's fingers going stiff and still between them. As if the both of them could sense the danger lurking in front of them with the king's looming presence. And it was Merlin's chance to let Uther know what Arthur was doing, but all the danger only clogged his throat. And when he tried pushing past it…the humiliation was almost tighter then any noose tying itself around his throat. The humiliation rolling through him kept him silent, only Arthur's cold fingers-colder then ice-keeping him focused. "Do not give me that look Arthur Pendragon. Tell me, why does your consort seem to think Lady Clarissa-am I correct when I go so far as to think this is Lady Clarissa of the Bennett Family-would be willing for you to touch her?"
Uther was pissed, that much was clear. But Merlin felt as if his heartbeat was trying to pound its way out of his chest as Arthur's fingers subtly twitched. Merlin clamped his thighs harder around them, trying to protect himself more then he was trying to protect Arthur from discovery. The prince was opening and closing his mouth like some kind of demented fish, clearly not knowing how to explain things to his father…but they both seemed to know with this sinking feeling that the king would not be nearly as amused by Arthur playing a little game with Merlin. All it would take was one wrong time twitch of Arthur's arm, or Uther leaning forward just a tinny, tiny bit more…and he would see Arthur's hand exactly where it was. And that was almost more dangerous then the actual conversation was.
"What he means," Morgana drawled out, having been drawn into the conversation the second Uther had started hissing at the two boys. "Is your dearest sweet Arthur is spending his nights inviting Lady Clarissa up to his room. And if you ask around, I am quite sure you will hear the rumors about how Lady Clarissa has been caught leaving the rooms of a married man. I thought it was quite the scandal when Merlin saw fit to inform me that it was Arthur's room she had been leaving." And Morgana's face was gentle as she reached up to grab her goblet, taking a long and generous sip, as if she hadn't been the instigator of the rumors in the first place. "I can only imagine what Merlin's horror must've been like, the day he walked in on the two of them. I thought your son had been raised better then to go running around on his partner, didn't you?"
Uther looked promptly horrified, and Merlin swallowed hard just knowing this was going to be turned around on him…but his entirely body went stiff when Arthur's fingers twitched in between his thighs once again. His eyes flying wide, looking down at the table as Arthur brushed against the one spot he had been intensely rubbing on. It sent a shot of lightning up Merlin's spine from the renewed sensation-nearly enough to take his breath away from him again. Oh no…oh god no…the consort was going to pass out from how much blood he felt rushing to his head. Was Arthur really going too…was Arthur really so bold of a monster, that he would continue touching on him even with his father 'right there.' That was the stuff of nightmares. The things Merlin would now think about only during the darkest of nights…his chest felt so tight as Arthur pulled at his fingers.
And then they were gone.
Merlin's breath came out of him in a rush of air as Uther was turning his attention onto Arthur, demanding to know if that was true. But Merlin could barely get into the horrific family squabble going on next to him, the aftershocks of his body trembling still rolling through him as he sagged against his chair. His body had been drawn tighter then the drawstring of a bow for so long, he almost didn't know how he should react now that it was released. Merlin's legs sagged open as wide as they could naturally go, but Merlin had no strength to try closing them back up. Arthur hadn't been…Merlin took in a shuddering breath that rattled his ribcage. Arthur hadn't been trying to touch him as his father looked on. The brush against that spot on his thigh had most likely been the result of an accident-a horrific accident that Merlin wasn't able to get over-as Arthur tried to move his fingers away within the little space he had. Using Morgana's distraction as a means to get away from Merlin instead of testing how long it would have taken for Uther to notice what was going on under his nose.
"I swear father, I didn't do a single thing with Lady Clarissa. I never touched on her, you have to believe me." Arthur spoke in a frantic tone, leaning closer so nobody else noticed what was going on. Merlin lolled his head to the side, his eyes in a foggy daze as his harsh breathing finally started to slow just a bit. Sounding less like he had just went on a random seven mile run throughout the entire village. Blinking slow, Merlin's eyes landed on Arthur's hands, where the prince had placed them on top of the table. "I admit…" the prince started again as he looked down with shame coloring his voice…the young consort could not understand how the prince was just able to throw himself into another conversation like that. At least not after…what he had done to Merlin…the consort did make a valiant effort to close his legs up. But they fell back open and exposed himself to the air. "Lady Clarissa did appear in my room a few weeks ago. And she did make an pass at me, which was very inappropriate of her. But I sent her away just after it happened. And it hasn't happened again. She…Lady Clarissa wasn't even there for me specifically. She was just looking for something and thought I could help her. And the moment just sort of…happened."
Merlin shifted his eyes away from Arthur's hands-trying his hardest to imagine those long fingers that hurt him brutally and carelessly, had just done unspeakable things to him he couldn't wrap his mind around, being sluggish and slow to catch up-and up to Arthur's face. The prince had the whole sorrowful look down, lying through his teeth…the prince had to know that Clarissa would currently be pregnant with that heir everybody said was going to take his place one of these days if Merlin hadn't shown up when he did. But would it be quite as easy for Arthur to lie to his father's face if the King had seen what…what violation his son had been casting on Merlin's body. Merlin honestly didn't know what was worse right now. The light twinges of his bruised face, or the pure aftershocks Arthur had left him with. And he couldn't help but wonder what kind of excuse Arthur would've came up with if Uther 'had' seen the way Arthur was trying to play his body like a fiddle.
"…You only sent her away because I walked into the room and refused to dismiss it." Merlin said slowly, head still not quite as clear as it should be when talking to the Pendragon family. His mouth felt like it had a cotton ball stuff into it, as his words slurred. Merlin could vaguely note Arthur was now glaring at him, a panicked expression on his face. Trying and begging with his face to get Merlin to shut up. But the spot on Merlin's inner thigh was freezing cold, causing the most awful gooseflesh to break out against the rest of his heated skin…as if Arthur had sucked away all of the warmth in that one spot. And Merlin's tongue got away from him before he became clear minded enough to remember how dangerous Arthur was when he didn't get his way. "But I seriously have my doubts…whatever Clarissa was looking for in your room, she wasn't going to find it with her hand down the front of your pants."
Arthur's face went blood red, though Merlin wasn't sure if it was because of the embarrassment of his father finding out he had been trying to impregnate a girl, or anger because it was Merlin that spilled the beans. And Uther silently stared his son down, the furious tinge in his eyes almost far worse then anything the king could've actually said in that moment in time. And Merlin shook his head, straightening himself in his chair as his sluggish mind started clearing up a bit. His own hands shook against the armrests, but he didn't know if it was fear…Arthur had touched him. That thought just kept returning to the front and center of his mind, never leaving him behind for a second of peace. Or if all the shaking of his hands was anger…anger because…Arthur had bloody went out of his way and TOUCHED him. Arthur had slid his fingers where they weren't wanted. Hadn't even asked if Merlin was willing to put up with it. He had just taken…whatever he had been trying to do. Just like he always did. Took. Took. Took. And took some more. The whole world-and now Merlin-his own personal play set to build and craft into whatever it was he wanted.
There was a subtle coughing sound behind them, all three of the people mainly involved noticing what Morgana had already noticed. The serving girl that had brought Bayard the three cups was standing there, holding the three silver chalices within her slim arms. It was unclear rather or not she had heard anything that was being said, a polite and unwavering smile on her face. But everybody reacted as if she was this unknown entity. Uther straightened away from where he had been looming over his son, but not shooting the boy a strict look that said 'this wasn't over.' It was just something that needed to wait until they weren't in a room full of dozens of people that might potentially hear how the royal family wasn't the perfect they tried portraying.
Uther took the largest of the three goblets being handed to him with barely an acknowledgement to the girl. And Arthur was falling back into his chair-where he had risen into this half crouched thing when he had been talking to Uther, not quite standing but not quite sitting either-this heavy exhale exiting him. And Merlin could feel the bruising glare Arthur was shooting him, and well…Merlin had wanted to die. And he had literally done the worse thing he could've done with bringing Clarissa to Uther's attention. But Merlin tried to act as if he didn't feel Arthur's glare categorizing every minute twitch of his face. Merlin just needed-he watched when the girl placed Arthur's goblet down in front of him with a sweet curtesy the prince didn't acknowledge-just needed to move on and…pretend this entire thing hadn't happened. Yes. This hadn't happened. It was far better to pretend then to sink to the bottom. Better to…Merlin didn't have the strength to try acknowledging the girl as she placed his own goblet in front of him. It was probably the fanciest cup Merlin had been in possession of his entire life, and yet…he couldn't even bring himself to grab it by the stem and pull it closer to get a good look at it.
This was a gift from Bayard. And while such an extravagant gift was not necessary, he should at least know Merlin was appreciative of the gesture. But it was hard to show the man any kind of appreciation when this one thought kept coming and trickling into his mind…what if Arthur tried to do such a thing like this again? It wasn't entirely far fetched to think he would try prying Merlin's legs apart to have his way with the one bloody spot he had been so fascinated with. He'd done it once already. Had even been fully aware of it, and made a conscious decision to continue doing it. That wasn't a move somebody wanting to say 'they hadn't realized what they'd been doing' would do. This was somebody that had looked Merlin over, looked at his own hand, watched Merlin again to make a decision…and then done it. And if Arthur was willing to make that kind of decision once, whose to say he wasn't going to make that same decision twice?
Bad enough when Arthur was pinning him down and trying to taunt him. But Arthur had escalated their whole situation within a single second, if those moments were now going to include rubbing Merlin's body…Merlin barely noticed when King Uther's manservant rushed to fill his new goblet up to the brim with a deep purple colored wine. And he couldn't say he noticed Morris rushing forward to do the same with Arthur's. And he didn't notice Bayard's manservant coming forward to fill up Merlin's cup with water, smiling sweetly at Merlin only to be sent away scurrying after Arthur sent him a dark glare. But he did notice other things…
Like his thigh.
Always his thigh.
And how much Merlin wanted to touch it for himself. He had his hands clamped around the armrests-his fingers straining against the wood-to stop himself from actually doing it. But he wanted to trace a path along his inner thigh, follow along with the same circling pattern Arthur had been etching into his leg. Wanting to know if he remembered the exact moves and pressures of Arthur's fingers-he knew he did. But there were other things as well…Merlin wanted to know if his thigh would shoot off the same electricity Arthur had drawn out of him. Merlin had bathed himself down there a good thousand times before. But…he had never gotten such simulation with his own fingers. Was this something only Arthur could do, or could Merlin do the same?
…Would Merlin 'want' to do the same.
He still wasn't sure if what his body had been doing was a good thing or a bad thing. Merlin wanted to call it bad since Arthur was the one that had instigated the whole thing. And that might as well have made it evil. But it was tempting as well…because it hadn't 'felt' bad. Oh, Arthur's touch felt as if it was corrupting him from the inside out. But if there was no Arthur in this equation-Merlin could still feel little bits of phantom aftershocks rolling through his body-then would it really hurt to find out if he could give himself the same after effects? Perhaps Arthur didn't even know how powerful the waves had been when he had been touching him. Perhaps it was all because of Merlin's sorcerer body? Surely he would have heard about something like this happening, if this was completely normal. But since he hadn't…Merlin being magic might have something to do with it. Perhaps it had made his body more intuned to things it otherwise wouldn't be if he'd been born normal. Made him more sensitive…
Merlin wasn't sure how he felt like that. Especially not if the prince had the power to bring Merlin to madness like he had been well on his way to doing before the king had the bright idea to interrupt them.
"The wounds that we receive in battle have been great and numerous over the years-" Bayard was starting with another portion of his great speech, holding up his own goblet that'd been provided for him by Camelot. And this time, Uther had moved over far enough that Merlin was able to see the great king. But…Merlin could also see his new friend Cara. The girl was standing right behind Bayard-lost in the crowd of many servants standing along the wall. And Merlin watched-as it was something new he could focus on. Perhaps it was even something that would help him ignore the tingling that was refusing to leave his thigh-as Cara glanced around herself in every direction. It kinda looked as if she was checking to be
sure nobody was watching her. "But from today forward that will be behind us."
Merlin's eyebrows furrowed together, paying just a bit more attention to her then he was to the actual speech the other king was rattling off. And then Cara was looking across the room…directly towards him…finding him immediately among the table of royals. And then Cara started gesturing towards him frantically…what the fuck? She was waving him down as if she thought he was going to stand up, walk his way right through Bayard and the dozens of other people standing in between them, and…have a conversation with her? Not that he didn't want too. Cara was the first person he'd met-one of the first that wasn't hostile towards him at their very first meeting-and he would love to get to know her more. She'd be leaving in a few days when Mercia had finished off all of their business. With any luck, Merlin would be dead by that point but still…it would've been nice to have at least just one more conversation with the stranger.
But now…even Merlin knew that it wasn't feasible for him to interrupt the speech and show disrespect towards Bayard: another person that actually seemed to enjoy his company, as strange as that thought was, by leaving before he'd even signed the treaty himself.
Merlin glanced back towards Bayard rattling off his speech, and glanced back at Cara. The Mercian serving girl looked even more desperate then before. She had brought together her hands in a pleading motion, looking like she wouldn't be above begging Merlin to follow her out of the room, as she gestured her head towards the door she was standing right in front of. Merlin didn't know if that spot had been chosen on purpose, or if it was just a coincidence that she ended up there. Merlin glanced around again-but intently aware of the prince still watching him-the consort subtly shook his head 'no'. He wasn't leaving, and he wasn't going to follow her out anywhere. There was a time and place for Merlin to talk and make friends with others. But disappearing in the middle of the party was going to do him no favors. Bayard did actually deserve a bit of respect from Merlin. The least he could do was sit here and listen.
But then Merlin watched as Cara seemed to understand him and her shoulders sagged, looking as if there was this heavy weight on them that her slight form couldn't have held up on her own. Cara glanced around herself once again to see if anybody was watching her, and if Merlin wasn't mistaken…he could have sworn there was this look of absolute fear twisting her features into an ugly expression. Merlin felt this sliver of dread crawling through him…what if he was wrong about Cara? What if she wasn't dragging him down because she wanted to chat some more. What if the other actually needed to tell him something important…Merlin understood how big of a risk it was for a peasant to bring something troubling to the attention on a noble. One never knew if they were going to receive help, or be scorned and turned away to deal with the matter on their own.
Merlin refused to think of himself as noble.
But Cara still thought he was. And if there was something she was scared of…did Merlin really not owe it to her to at least hear her out? The other girl had been so nice to him during their one meeting, nice enough that Gaius thought the girl even had some kind of crush on him. As impossible as it was for 'anybody' to like somebody like him like that…the girl still hadn't scoffed in his face like so many others. It wasn't as if he couldn't come back if it turned out he'd only been overreacting.
Merlin watched as Cara slipped out of the room through the side door, the door making no noise to alert anybody one of their own had left the room.
Fuck…was he really going to follow?
Well…having a few minutes of space away from Arthur so he could breath, and process what he'd been doing to his thigh couldn't have been anything other then a bonus to listening to Cara's problems.
Merlin waited with baited breath, until he was sure that the other people in the room was focused on the midst of the Blue King's speech. He didn't want to draw attention back to himself, and with any luck, this matter could be resolved of quickly. And Merlin would be back before anybody noticed he was gone…there was a brush against his leg. But Merlin was so insanely focused on watching everybody else…just to make sure nobody was watching him to see if there was something he would do that could be made fun of…that the consort brushed a hand along the side of his knee without a second thought. It was probably only a piece of string or perhaps a fly had landed on him. Nothing for Merlin to think about for a second longer.
Merlin slid his chair out a little, there wasn't quite enough space for him between the arm of the chair and the table to slip out of. But it could've simply been seen as him adjusting his seat so he wasn't so close to the table…but the consort stopped what he was doing almost immediately. When there was another brush against his leg. Pressing a little bit firmer then it had been the first time, just a little bit higher up then his leg…the distinct shape of fingers before they vanished as fast as they came. Almost as if…Arthur was trying to test waters. See how far he was willing to go…see how far Merlin would be willing to let him go before he freaked out.
Or maybe Arthur didn't expect for Merlin to make a scene…it wasn't as if he had made much of one the first time Arthur had touched him like this.
Merlin could feel the dread pooling in his stomach when the prince pressed a little harder on the outside of his leg. And his legs were already starting to tremble again, feeling as if there was no way he would be able to stand up on them and walk out of this room without stumbling a few times. But the consort did not dare look back at Arthur, clenching down his jaw when-instead of moving away this time-the prince drew a long line with his finger. Straight up Merlin's leg and only stopping when he got to the outside of his thigh. The inside of his thigh…the little spot Arthur had been focused on…was almost thumping. As if it had its own little heartbeat living in it…urging for Arthur to continue reaching forward to touch it once again. For…academic purposes. Just so Merlin would know what to do if he ever got the chance to touch himself there later…
Merlin would have though, as a single drop of sweat worked it's way down the back of his neck and disappeared into the back of his shirt somewhere, that Arthur would've been just as freaked out as he was. He would've thought them being interrupted by Arthur's father, and somehow managing not to be discovered, would've been a good deterrent for Arthur to keep his hands to himself. But it was as if Arthur had just discovered a new game, something he wasn't ready to stop playing quite yet. Because he knew Merlin didn't know what he was doing? Because he knew Merlin was trying to be as calm as he could possibly be, as Arthur tantalizingly slid his finger to the top of Merlin's thigh. Placing his hand down on it with a bit more weight, making sure Merlin felt how big the prince was when compared to himself. His hand could have swallowed Merlin's thigh whole…
And that didn't feel good…
But it didn't feel bad either…
But Arthur was touching him again…
And Merlin was just letting him…
So conflicted. So confused. So weirded out. But intrigued…
Merlin's throat went drier then the Sahara desert when the prince slowly moved his fingers towards that spot that laid between Merlin's thighs. Having free access to touch at that one spot, free access to touch any spot…free access to do whatever he wanted as long as Merlin's legs remained open like they were. His skin felt overheated again, as if the other man was in control of some kind of switch that determined what Merlin felt, and it only took a single touch to turn that on…Arthur's fingers were only a scant inch away from being able to touch that spot and that spot thrummed as if it knew just how close Arthur was to touching it. But it also felt as if Arthur's fingers were mikes away from it…Merlin wasn't sure if he wanted to go ahead and shove that man away. Or if the consort wanted to grab that hand himself, and drag Arthur's fingers to that spot since he was taking so bloody long. If Arthur was going to brutalize him whenever he pleased…the least he could do was make Merlin feel good…
Was it good?
The thought kept centering back in his mind…he didn't think he would ever get used to the mix of heat in his stomach. A heat that said he wanted to see where this was going…and what was going to happen after. But it was that very same flash of heat that told Merlin he was doing something very bad. Something he would be scorned over, for enjoying the touch of an abuser…something that normal people would've never done because they knew it was wrong. And god, was this the wrongest thing Merlin had ever done in the entirety of his life…he should be running before he lost all sense of control in his trembling thighs. There was only so much the consort could take before he lost his mind over how strange and new it all was…
…Could Arthur feel how much he was trembling?
Arthur pressed harshly against that spot that seemed to set Merlin's nerves on fire. And the consort felt his brain going blank for a startlingly fast second before he was reacting to the pressure…within seconds, Merlin was clamping his legs as tight as he could get them. Forcing Arthur's fingers away from him…the loud screech of his chair seemed to echo out in the room as Merlin shoved himself from the table, and he rose out of his chair before he could think about it. The hall went silent, everybody turning to stare at Merlin with silent confusion. Merlin darted his eyes everywhere, wishing more then anything that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He could only imagine the mess he looked…did they notice the sweat plastering his hair to his scalp? Did any one of them notice his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his own body? Was Merlin's heart really beating out of his chest and could they see the thrumming through his skin? Did they not see the awkward way he was standing as the warm flush of heat dancing in his blood started to fade into a freezing cold sense of panic.
Merlin didn't think anybody could see.
But all of this felt acutely noticeable to Merlin.
And though he knew it was a really bad idea, Merlin spared a glance down at Arthur. And almost immediately was the consort turning back around so he would've have to look at him again. It was…it was…Arthur had looked annoyed. Either he was irritated because Merlin had stood up and drawn this attention to himself. Or he was annoyed because Merlin was not just sitting there and allowing the prince to feel all up on him until he decided he was done with Merlin. He needed to get out of here, the room too stuffy with too many eyes now watching him and there was no chance he was going to plop back down in that chair and act as if nothing was happening under the table. How many hours was this party expected to go on? And how many hours was Merlin going to spend with his legs shaking as he hoped desperately that nobody in the room would need to bend over and grab something. For fear they would catch sight of Arthur's hand buried between his legs…catch sight of Merlin 'allowing' Arthur's hand to find a place between his thighs. Bloody well catch sight of Arthur tormenting him, forcing Merlin's body taut until something finally broke for real…
He definitely needed to get out of here.
And Bayard cleared his throat loudly to get everybody to be more focused on him. One by one-except for the three that actually cared about him-they turned back to Bayard as the king continued his speech as if he hadn't been interrupted by Camelot's consort. Fuck…Merlin could've kissed Bayard because of how thankful he was! He didn't think feeling was ever going to return to his legs if everybody was watching him…Cara. Merlin needed to get to Cara. He needed to just think. And work things through. And try not to panic…did it really matter if Arthur liked touching him between his legs? It was definitely weird as fuck, but it wasn't as if it was the worse thing Arthur had ever done to him. The bruises along his face still twinged every time he moved as a reminder of that…
…
…
…
Or maybe he was just trying to justify why it was okay for him to do it.
Merlin took this chance to try and leave as quietly as he was able too. He was already standing, and the chair was almost traumatizing inducing-he would never be able to sit down in it again, without thinking of the time Arthur had tried pretty damn hard to touch him into a coma-so he should just slide out while he could. Merlin did exactly that, sliding sideways to get out from behind the chair…and he should've known it wouldn't be as easy as that. His wrist being clamped around in a tight grip, and Arthur's burning eyes drilling into his own skull before he could get too far away.
"Where do you think you are going, Merlin?" Arthur hissed at him in a demanding tone, making sure to keep quiet as to not drag anymore attention onto them, squeezing Merlin's un-fractured wrist tight enough that he could feel the bones underneath starting to cry out from the pressure. Merlin's jaw went tight as he winced…how could Arthur be touching him so hotly in one moment. And then trying to hurt him the next? Merlin saw movement out the corner of his eye, and it was Gaius. Gaius who was already standing up, and looking prepared to march over there and start a scene with Arthur for grabbing Merlin like this. Merlin felt yet another wave of panic course through him, and he quickly shook his head to tell Gaius not to come. He could handle this…or he'd better handle this. Before something was said or done, and Gaius found out what had been happening. Gaius would've been so disappointed in him if he knew Merlin had put up with all of the touching…had even craved it just a little. Damn…what kind of sick fuck was Merlin? Where he 'enjoyed' having his abuser do something to him that while-definitely weird-did not hurt. But then Arthur was squeezing his wrist again and Merlin was forced to look back down at the prince seated in his chair…he knew before he even met the other man's eyes …he did not like being ignored. "I know that you aren't trying to leave. The party has just begun. Maybe you should try to sit back down. Surely you can be a good boy and listen this evening. Do you think you can do that?"
Arthur's voice had sounded so sugar sweet, which sharply contrasted against the intensity of those blue eyes. Almost as if Arthur was trying to coax a scared puppy into coming to him…good boy? Had Arthur just asked him to be a good boy? Merlin didn't even know what that meant! Here Merlin was, thinking he had all the problems in the world needing to be dealt with. But as it turned out, Arthur seemed to be having some problems of his own. If he was going to try and call Merlin a…good boy? But then Arthur tried tugging on his arm, guiding him back to that chair, but Merlin did not lower himself back down. Knowing Cara needed him right this moment…or maybe he needed the excuse of having to see Cara more then she actually needed him. Besides…he knew he would probably not get back up if he did. Giving into the devil and willing to sell his soul to feel just an ounce of what Arthur had been doing to him…it was not normal. Had Arthur turned to sorcery and put some kind of spell on him to make him feel this way? He doubted it, but it was easier to think this was the case. Instead of him being forced to admit that Arthur's touch hadn't felt as horrid as it usually did…
"Come on Merlin, just a few more hours of this. And then we can retire for the evening. I'm sure it won't be as bad as you are thinking…just a few more speeches and a signing and a few bites of food and we're done." Arthur continued trying to spin his web for Merlin to listen to him. Trying to coax him into doing what he wanted so he wouldn't be forced to make him sit back into the chair, causing an even bigger scene for the masses then what Merlin had done. Arthur tugged down on his wrist, and Merlin wavered, almost faltering to do what the prince commanded of him. Arthur's voice almost felt as if it was hypnotic, sinking into the deepest and darkest little corners of his mind, planting himself so deep that the young sorcerer would never be able to get rid of him completely. "I think you want to be a good boy for me, Merlin. I am sure I'll be able to make it worth your while…all you have to do it sit back down and crease this nonsense. Do you understand?"
There were those words again…good boy. And the consort shook his head, snapping himself out of the hypnotic state he had been pulled into. This…good boy sounded like what somebody would say to their pet when they finally managed to do a good trick. And worth your while…Merlin shivered in distaste. He wasn't sure what Arthur meant by that, but the consort knew enough about Arthur to know nothing he was giving Merlin was good. And if nothing Arthur gave him was good, then…the touches on his leg were bad, he decided on a spur of the moment shift. The man talking to him was the horrid beast known as Arthur Fucking Pendragon. The man holding his wrist was the reason his other wrist was almost in pieces. The man who had touched him…should have his bloody hand cut off for doing it. There was no chance Merlin was going to 'crease his nonsense'. Especially if 'make this worth his while' was only Arthur eluding to what he had told Merlin earlier. When he had said 'changes' were going to be made.
"I think-" Merlin forced out of himself like a punch, wiggling his fingers to try and get Arthur to let go. But the prince had a vice like grip on him, and it wasn't fair. How had the prince managed to force his fingers between Merlin's closed thighs to play with that one spot-the thought made Merlin's cheeks heat up, embarrassed with himself for not putting a stop to it sooner-and Merlin couldn't even slide his hand out of the prince's now. "I think that I have to go use the chamber pot. It won't take but a few minutes. And then I'll be back…"
Merlin tried to appeal towards Arthur's, well…he wouldn't be going so far as to say Arthur had a good side. But surely the prince wouldn't deny him using the chamber pot. But Merlin did find there was an honest to god second where it looked as if Arthur was actually contemplating over it. Looking as if he was deciding on rather or not he would allow Merlin to go relieve himself somewhere private. It was only an excuse to get him outside so he could talk to Cara, but…it wasn't as if Arthur knew that! Cara would've been too far below for the prince to even know who she was. Let along think Merlin'd be doing anything other then what he had said he was going to do.
"Can't you hold it for a bit longer?" Arthur suddenly asked the consort in an annoyed tone, glancing over to the other kings to make sure Bayard was still talking. Before looking back at Merlin…the consort felt his hand starting to shudder in Arthur's grip. He…relieving oneself was a basic right that everybody should have. Was Arthur really going to tell him he couldn't go to the privacy room? Merlin could feel blood boiling in his veins as a familiar irrational anger hit him…he'd bloody let fucking Arthur feel him up! He had let Arthur take a time with his leg in the most depraved manner he hadn't known was possible. And the first thing Arthur did afterward was disregard him like a used tissue? It was…Merlin did not think there was a word invented for what Arthur was. "You'll be able to go after the signing. Nobody's going to care after the main event is over."
As if Arthur knew one bloody thing about Merlin and his own bathroom habits. For all Arthur knew, Merlin could have had a medical condition that made him have to go 'now'. Merlin did not have a medical condition, but if he did, he may have 'relieved himself' all over Arthur. Soaking the prince until his already golden hair became damp and started dripping into his clothes. The same Arthur who was…the blood in Merlin's cheeks turned darker when he saw the other man lowering his gaze down towards Merlin's crotch. Merlin tried to close his legs as if he was trying to hide himself from the man's gaze. But when it felt as if he wasn't doing a good job at it, he started to pull harder on his arm, unable to escape as the crashing waves of humiliation grew more potent.
Was this the reason why Arthur didn't want him to go? Not because people were going to talk if Merlin disappeared for a few minutes. But he wanted…Arthur wanted…Merlin almost couldn't understand the idea of Arthur wanting…to continue 'touching' him. The prince wanted him to sit back down as if this was an every day ordinary request. Arthur wanted Merlin to open up his legs as if they were meant to be, and allow the prince to continue pressing and rubbing and rolling that one spot inside of his thigh. The spot that made him shiver and tremble and go all fuzzy in the head…but Merlin was clear headed in a way that he hadn't been since Arthur had started up this whole weird game with him.
And Merlin knew those kind of touches…they were BAD.
WRONG.
SINFUL, if being done by Arthur Pendragon.
"I could always piss on you, instead of using the chamber pot like a proper gentlemen." Merlin hissed, trying to copy the same intensity in his eye's that Arthur had. But Merlin felt as if he failed on that front, knowing how dead he looked nowadays. His blue eyes were probably lifeless. But that did not stop Merlin's crude words. If Arthur wanted to call him a 'good boy' like a pet. And if Arthur wanted him to do what it was he was told and sit back down so Arthur could get what weird kick he was getting out of touching Merlin…then he'd just act like a dog. And what did dogs do other then piss on things they probably shouldn't. "But I think that would have to be offensive to the delicate eyes of the people here. I'm sure you can agree with me. We don't want anybody to go thinking I'm not housebroken."
Housebroken…Arthur should've been bloody grateful Merlin was more sick in the head then the body. Or he might have started taken to peeing on the drapes and the rugs and the what not's…but Arthur finally seemed to get the message at least. The prince rolled his eyes with a disgusted expression as he let Merlin's wrist slip through his fingers. The Consort moved quickly, bringing his arm up to cradle snugly against his chest, briefly checking it over for damages. Merlin could hardly imagine seeing Gaius after silently telling him to take his seat-the older man was still glaring in their direction, the consort saw-and showing him how Arthur had managed to hurt him again. But luckily, Merlin seemed fine…other then all of the other damaging things that were wrong with him. At least he had nothing new to add to the list. And the best part…he was pretty sure he had finally gotten Arthur to stop looking at his crotch. The prince might've thought touching him was fun. But it was decidedly less fun when he realized Merlin's cock was in range.
"I should warn you-" Arthur stated the second the consort tried to leave again, making Merlin freeze in his step as his ears strained to pick up on the low words. Arthur no longer looked at him, calmly picking up his spoon again. One would have thought he was the king of the world with how calm he was being. "If you are not back within five minutes then I will have no choice but to come find you. I would pee fast. I do not want anybody thinking you have gone and found a man to play around with while you are in there."
Merlin probably should have ran while he had the chance, he was sure Arthur would throw a gasket if he really did try to follow Merlin into a privacy room and realized the consort had never been there. But Arthur's words were just strange enough for Merlin to stop, and stare at him as his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Was Arthur…was Arthur still going on about those unfounded rumors? But what did him having to go to the chamber pot mean? What did the other man mean by Merlin…playing around with a man while using the chamber pot? The idea of Merlin sitting down on the pot with his pants around his ankles, and another man sitting in front of him while they played cards or something came to mind. And it was so ridiculous…did Arthur really think Merlin was going to let somebody come in while he was having this private moment? Did Arthur think Merlin was just…what…go and have a date in the privacy room? Merlin had thought far too much in his early teens about what he would want to do on his first date. And a man watching him push feces out of his body had somehow never made it on the list of things he would want to do…Arthur was so bloody weird! With a very sick mind to boot.
"Tick tock, Merlin. You do not want me coming in there as you are otherwise engaged." Arthur said casually, sticking the spoon in his mouth. And though the prince sipped at his soup like a gentlemen, the consort winced as if Arthur'd just slurped the whole thing down like a caveman. Bloody come in there with him…Arthur was such a freak, Merlin knew with no doubt that Arthur would 'actually' follow him inside. The blond might excuse himself from the banquet before he was eventually slipping into the same privacy room Merlin ended up using…maybe when Merlin was still sitting there. Or…the prince might enter as Merlin was pulling his pants back into place…the dread was strong. What if Arthur didn't just pull Merlin out and scream at him for wasting all their time and accusing him of just trying to get out of the banquet. What if Arthur took a chance-while they were alone-to try gorging himself on Merlin by doing those bad things to him all over again. What if-when there was no chance of anybody else interrupting them-the prince shoved Merlin against a wall. A hot hand over his mouth to muffle Merlin squeaking, as his other hand disappeared between Merlin's legs to find what seemed to be his favorite spot. What if… "You really should get a move on, Merlin. I will not be held responsible for my actions if I really do have to come find you. Four minutes to go. And thirty eight seconds, of course. Four minutes to go, and thirty seven seconds. Four minutes to go, and thirty-"
This sent a surge of panic coursing through Merlin when he realized how deadly serious Arthur was. Well, Merlin already knew how serious Arthur was. But it was entirely different to know he was on an 'actual' countdown and the blond hadn't just been giving Merlin a timeframe in which to return. There was no telling how long his little meeting with Cara would be lasting. No telling if it could be over within two minutes, or if it was actually something important. And importance took a bit of time. Which was exactly why Merlin turned tail, leaving the table as quickly as he could without drawing additional attention to himself. And with every step he walked towards the sidedoor, Merlin's hatred for himself started to darken.
This wasn't who he was. This was what Arthur made him out to be. A person who ran at Arthur's command…hadn't he'd sworn earlier to make Arthur's life a living hell after suffering through his abuse? And the only thing he'd managed to do with his promise was-reveal Clarissa, but he didn't know the repercussions of Uther finding out since that situation was put on hold for the time being-open his legs for greedy and inquisitive fingers. How embarrassing…and sure. The young sorcerer knew that marriage was all about sacrificing so you can make your partner happy-that lesson was taught to him the hard way. And maybe Merlin should've been grateful if the only thing he had to sacrifice was his dignity-it would be bloody awful if Merlin had to open his legs everyday and let Arthur play with that one spot until he was satisfied with the mess he had made out of Merlin. But it was hard to try being grateful when Merlin was the only one doing any sacrificing.
What exactly had Arthur done? Other then touching on him without permission?
Which is exactly why, as Merlin tugged open the side door-not noticing Gwen and Gaius being able to see pass him into the crack, where Cara was standing right on the other side as if she knew he would come and had been waiting for him all this time-he sent a resentful glare over his shoulder. But if the prince noticed Merlin's lapse, he didn't give any kind of indication. He didn't even acknowledge Merlin standing there as he took another sip of his soup…stupid bloody and aggravating prince! Merlin was good enough to do all those weird things too. But not good enough to be noticed?
Merlin shook his head, disgusted with himself for daring to try getting Arthur's attention. And then he slipped through the crack in the door. The last thing Merlin heard before the door closed all the way with a dull thud, was the continuous words of Bayard's speech, "…Tonight we toast a new future for our people. A life where we are all free from the toils that war brings-"
X
"Oh Merlin! Thank goodness! I was so scared that you were not going to come! Goodness, it was so horrible!" The great priestess known as Nimueh, currently masked as the young serving girl Cara, spoke quickly the second she saw Merlin arriving. Nimueh was a mistress at manipulation, and it was no hard feat to make her eyes go extra wide as to show the consort how great her fear was. And the worry leaking out of her voice sounded almost natural…vulnerable. She'd yet to meet a single man who would not jump at the signs of a woman in distress. She had killed many men using this skill she had developed. And Merlin would be no different, as he rushed to her aid just as she knew he would. "It wasn't until I saw Bayard giving that goblet to your husband did I realize what I had seen…"
Nimueh trailed off, shuddering as if she had seen something so horrid, she could not bring herself to speak of it out loud. Because if she spoke it out loud, then this meant it would be real. And just like a fish being baited on a hook Merlin would come rushing forward to try and comfort the distressed little woman. Would wrap his arms around her-and hopefully give Nimueh a taste of the magic leaking off of him-to help ease her 'worries.' Even now, Nimueh could feel the magic trying to push its way out of him. Stilted and inside and caged just like magic should never be. But Nimueh made a grave error if she thought Merlin would come rushing forward to help a woman in distress…she had not taken into account a Merlin who was still pretty stressed out from the last hour he had endured.
"Hmm, what?" The consort asked, blinking as if he had just realized she was standing there in the first place. The aged priestess-much older then her beauty would dictate-made her faux frown go a bit more fixated. Was Merlin…was this sorcerer more powerful than any she had ever know, with so much raw talent just waiting to be unleashed…it had to have been hours since she had touched herself to those thoughts of Merlin's magic touching her core but her pussy still felt as if it was tingling and wet…actually ignoring her? Nimueh had not had a man ignore her since…Nimueh could not think of a man who had ever ignored her. Merlin seemed to sense that she was displeased, her lips pursing just a little, because he shook his head and seemed to get himself back together, "I apologize. It's been…weird. But maybe you should probably just start at the beginning? Would that not be the best place to start so you can tell me what is going on?"
Well, Nimueh thought to herself, it was not putting his arms around her so she could press her breasts against his chest to seduce him with her womanly charm. But at least he had gotten his head back in the game. Though him ignoring her …Nimueh would've killed a man for a lesser crime. But this only proved that Merlin was different, that he was special in ways she did not yet understand. She felt no urge to ignore her plans for the boy and kill him under the heel of her used peasant boots. Actually…it almost seemed to have an vastly different effect on her. Nimueh truly would not have minded finding another way to get Merlin's full attention. If she did not already have her plan in motion with the goblet…maybe she would have taken the time to sink to her knees. Sucking this man's cock into her mouth as if she was worshipping a god…the god of magic. She would never degrade herself to ordinary men. But Nimueh had done far worse in her quest for magic. Giving herself over to a higher power, sucking at him until the magic laced in his seed filled her belly…would be quite enjoyable compared to other things she had done in her decades. But…later…when she managed to get Merlin away from here. For now. She had a plan to contend too.
"It all happened just two days ago. I was bringing Bayard his evening meal." Nimueh started to explain the story she had carefully and craftily came up with, leaving no holes in the story that Merlin might be able to poke through. But Nimueh wasn't too worried about that. Magically powerful or not, he was still very young and trusted far too easily. It'd been way too easy for Nimueh to have already gain enough trust that the consort would ditch the celebrations to come and hear her out. A smarter sorcerer would know better then to come out somewhere alone, even with somebody that looked as if they were more innocent then the freshly driven snow. But it could be taught, the kind of cautiousness all sorcerers had to have installed in them if they intended on surviving for a long time in this cruel world. When she had Merlin with her permanently, perhaps she would be willing to teach him that until his usefulness ran out. "We are supposed to knock and wait for an answer before entering. But I was carrying much more then I usually do. And I wasn't thinking past wanting to put them down. He didn't expect me to just walk in like I did that night-"
Merlin's brows furrowed themselves together when he saw the fearful expression on Cara's face worsening. And Merlin did not understand the reason for her fears…unless she had also had Arthur trying to play around with her under the fold of her skirts. But Merlin was pretty sure only he was having to live with the misfortune of that happening to him. And he could admit Clarissa might've been on the receiving end of such attentions, albeit in a different manner then Merlin and his male form would allow. But…Cara wasn't worried that the prince would come storming out of the chambers in a short four minutes and twenty two seconds…she was vastly more worried about Bayard. But that was almost more confusing to Merlin then Arthur taking joy in humiliating him with that stupid thigh thing he'd taken to doing.
"…I don't think I understand." Merlin said slowly, trying his damn hardest to ignore the pulsing in his head that told him Cara was able to see all the disgusting things he had just been partaking in with Arthur. Perhaps the places Arthur touched were lit with neon green handprints as if the prince had stuck his hand in a batch of something slimy before touching him. And now all of that green ooze was shining brightly inbetween his thighs where Arthur had spent most of his time, showing his shame to people who should never have to see it. But fuck…Merlin only had four minutes and nineteen seconds left. Did he really want to waste his time panicking over rather or not Cara knew how disgusting he was. Surely Cara would not have came to him, or would not be telling him anything, if she knew he'd gone along with his husband's strange proclivities. "What exactly are you trying to say? And didn't you mention something of a goblet…my…my husband's goblet?"
Merlin could vaguely remember Cara saying something like that when he had first came out. But he had still been so full of anger and wrath and loathing and confusion…it had taken a few seconds before Merlin snapped out of it long enough to realize Cara needed him far more at the moment, and all his own problems could wait until he could address them. If he 'ever' had a chance to address them. But onto the bigger problems…what did Bayard have to do with Arthur's goblet? It couldn't have been anything nefarious, right? Because the aged Mercian King was…probably what Merlin wanted to be if he managed to survive the next twenty or so years of this royal life. You know. If he managed to fail at his trying to get killed off plan, like he failed at everything else. Merlin could try and claim living another twenty years would've been the perfect revenge against Arthur, the prince being riled up as the years passed them by. Until Merlin grew grey and looked like Bayard did to the people…a gay royal who didn't put up with no crap from anybody. Merlin still vividly remembered the back handed comments Bayard had given every time his husband tried to say something. Disguising all of his insults behind innocent questions or inquiries, so carefully hidden not even Arthur would be able to say something without the others seeing him as a fool. Now 'that' was an inspiration to be.
"I can't…I can't…I-" Nimueh's voice was hoarse, making sure it sounded as if her fake tears were choking her. She hadn't cried real tears in a long time, but she found it effortless to draw them forth and make her eyes glisten. She shook her head as if she was backtracking, and chickening out as she denied Merlin's claim about using the goblet. But it was just as quickly she was shaking her head yes, as if she was this troubled young girl who couldn't make up her mind. "I don't know what to do! It was a mistake to come here and get you involved! But oh god, you already involved because it's your family. But if I say anything…I have already said too much to you already. If the King ever finds out about this, he will not hesitate to have me killed!"
Nimueh made sure she locked eyes with Merlin, made sure she had him hook, line, and sinker. Before she tried to turn and run away, as if she had made the biggest mistake of her life by coming here. But just as she predicted, Merlin came forward and grabbed onto her hand before she could truly escape him. Nimueh stopped running, and she suppressed the shudder caused by Merlin's hand against her own. This was not some crazed fantasy of fanatical excitement trying to overtake her…she could literally 'feel' the magic far more acutely now that they were touching. Like a little spark that met between their fingers, and she wondered if Merlin was able to feel the same spark that she did. But looking at him now, she could only see the concern shining in her face for 'Cara'. Not for Nimueh, who knew the spark between them had the power to grow brighter then the inferno of the sun itself. But for 'Cara'. A weak little peasant girl who was never going to feel the intimate touch of this man as he took care when pushing inside of her, making sure she felt every inch of his golden magic leaking out of his cock as he-perhaps-even impregnated her with the next generation of powerful magic users. Was it wrong for Nimueh to be jealous that her alter ego was getting this god's attention? Perhaps. But the young Cara was only one step removed from herself. And if he liked Cara enough…then she was positive this god would see Nimueh as a much higher being and better match to be with. Far better then the 'prince' he'd been forced to marry.
"I can promise you, I won't let anything happen to you." The consort said firmly, his eyes earnest and pure. He needed to get to the bottom of this. Needed to know why Cara seemed so convince Bayard would have her killed…surely there was something he was missing here. He didn't exactly peg King Bayard as a killer…not a man who clearly disliked Arthur. It was that one trait alone that would've made Merlin choose to be on Bayard's side of things. Not to mention all of those little things that had caught his eye when it came to the old king…like actually talking to him. Asking him about his eye instead of just taking Arthur's word about what happened as Uther had done. Killers weren't nice towards the families of their future victims…right? "Perhaps you could just tell me what you saw when you entered his chambers? And maybe we can get all of this cleared up. Yes?"
Because Bayard being one of the nicest royals he had met or not…Merlin knew from first hand experience that nobles banded together with other nobles. And Merlin…he did not want to be like that. He didn't want to be one of 'them'. If all of this turned out to be a misunderstanding, then they could actually get it cleared up and move on. Bayard was this easy guy to get along with. Merlin was sure the King would get a kick out of this. But if it wasn't any kind of misunderstanding then Merlin didn't want to be the one that turned Cara away when she tried to warn him. It was strange…noticing how all of this seemed to mirror with the Valiant situation he'd dealt with months ago. Uther hadn't believed him when he'd been the peasant bringing forth a warning. And he'd been forced to take matters into his own hands to stop Valiant before he could kill Camelot's heir. Knowing what he knew now, maybe Merlin would've just let the snakes eat Arthur's heart. But it was not the time for Merlin to mourn over past regrets. Not if Cara knew something that Merlin was missing….
"Bayard is no friend of Camelot." Cara said in a solemn tone, as if it was taking everything she had to warn people against her own king. To speak up against the man whose kingdom housed her and fed her and worked her. Merlin could have even appreciated the obvious strength it was taking for her to get these words out to him. If he only understood…how a nice man like Bayard could've had his own servant prepared to throw him under a carriage. It didn't make any sense, as Merlin tried connecting the 'Bayard is no friend' to the King Merlin had only good conversations with. "He craves every bit of the kingdom for himself. And he's willing to take out all who might stand in his way."
Merlin could feel his spine going ramrod sharp, allowing the Mercian girl's fingertips to fall from his fingers as the truth was being laid out before him. Cara had came to him for the help she needed…and it seemed so obvious now that Merlin was thinking about it. He didn't want to believe it, but it did not occur to Merlin to try insisting Cara had only confused this whole situation with something else that was a little less …evil. She knew what she had seen, far more then he could have. And Merlin knew what it felt like to be doubted when you knew with every fiber of your being that something was wrong. And already…the memories of every one of his past interactions with the King was starting to flood his mind and rearranging themselves to something far more darker. It was something Merlin could not have predicted, even though he should have. No noble was as nice to Merlin as Bayard had been. And that should have been his first blinding clue.
"Cara, I need you to tell me exactly what he's done. I cannot help if I don't know what he's done." Merlin said, his voice sounding distorted to his own ears. He…Merlin could feel a stinging of betrayal coursing through him, making him feel all raw and open and vulnerable. It felt worse then any kind of lash. Felt worse then Arthur taking his disgusting hands and trying to make Merlin partake in something…odd. It was even worse then if a group of rabid dogs-vicious and angry and hungry versions of the puppy Arthur had been trying to treat him as with his 'good boy' talk-was mauling at him until he ripped apart in pieces. Bayard…Bayard had PLAYED him, had made Merlin think he was different then every other rich arsehole of a noble he had came across. And made him out to be a fool. "You've mentioned the goblet…has Bayard went and done something to Arthur's goblet?"
Merlin breathed those words out of his lips as if they were meant to be a silent prayer. Somehow wishing still for any explanation-even the most oddest and strangest one-would fall from the sky and hit him like a sledgehammer straight to the head. He knew he didn't want to hear this…knew he did not want to keep asking himself rather or not Bayard'd been laughing at him as soon as they stopped talking. Convinced by how good his kind act had been, that Merlin wouldn't find out the truth until it was too late. And perhaps Merlin should be more worried about Arthur's goblet, and what this cheap liar had done to it. But as it turned out…Arthur's goblet may have been the topic of conversation, but it may as well have been barely a footnote as Merlin tried to work though all this betrayal trying to strike him down. He felt woozy again, all of Arthur's touching and Bayard's betrayal and his already very poor health…Merlin wasn't sure his body was going to take anymore surprises this evening. But Cara was the gift that'd keep on giving, as she explained Bayard's reasonings for all of this to him.
"Bayard believes that if he kills Arthur, Uther's spirit will end up broken. And without the power of the true king of rule it, Camelot will quickly fall soon after." She said in this rushed tone, as if she was scared she wasn't going to be able to tell him any of this if she didn't get it out now. But Merlin felt so scared as well, his stomach churning in an attempt to make him throw up the messy spoonful or two of peas he'd made himself eat at dinner. "And Bayard…oh, my consort! My king believes if the prince and your king are out of the way, then you will be the only one left standing on the throne! And it will be far too easy to take over and usurp you since you do not know how to run a kingdom! He believe the people will not hesitate to choose him…if you fail to be what the entire kingdom needs."
Cara threw her head down into a bow, as if she was afraid she might have insulted him by claiming he wasn't going to be a good fit for the kingdom. But on contrary, Merlin wasn't insulted at all. His knees shook though…Merlin had known it was a possibility that he might end up so closely tied on the throne. It was pretty much a given with his marriage to the prince. And Morgana had made that much clear to him long ago…back during the tourney. When Merlin was more naive then he was now. But that was also something that was only meant to happen in some long and distant future Merlin was not going to live to see. A day in the future that was not, as far as Merlin was concerned, ever going to pass. But Bayard had made it come far sooner than Merlin was ready for…the consort probably would have taken whatever help the other king would offer him simply because he didn't 'know' better then to not allow other royals to get a hand in the business of the kingdom. Merlin would've been-for once-the one that was blinded to the true nature of a helping hand…until it was a human hand that turned gangly and clawed, leaving Merlin to stand in the ruins of once was.
All Merlin could think was…thank god for Cara. For being the one to save Merlin from a fate worse than his own death was going to be.
"Okay, Cara. But now I need to know about the goblet…and I need you to tell me about it." Merlin said, feeling as if Cara was holding herself back from telling him the nitty gritty of what Bayard had done…but Merlin supposed it was easier to the girl. Easier to tell Merlin all about the wicked plan Bayard had put in motion. Because if she actually said what he had done…it made it real. And it made the serving girl a betrayer to her own people. It was no wonder she was so scared…no simple serving girl had the protection needed to keep on the safe side of things. But perhaps if they managed to stop the plan…stop what was happening, Uther would be willing and appreciative enough to give Cara asylum. Allow her to live in the city and continue her work under a red flag instead of a blue one…for saving the life of his heir. "But just to be sure…you are positive that it was Arthur's goblet you saw? His and mine are pretty similar. Maybe it was mine…?"
It was just so easy for Merlin to imagine Bayard trying to do something to his drink…okay, it wasn't easy at all. There was still a bit of…disconnect…in Merlin. He trusted Cara, and he knew that she was speaking the truth. But imagining Bayard to be vile enough to do something so awful. Standing over a silver goblet as he did…whatever he had done to it. Maybe it was Bayard's way of getting rid of Merlin? Merlin could have tasted this sourness forming-sticky and nasty and making it hard for him to swallow-in the back of his throat. Merlin did not find it too much of a stretch that somebody would try to do him in. How many people in Camelot said they hated him to his face, or did something to show him how unwanted he was in this village. Merlin had only been blindsided because it was a king who seemed willing to do all the dirty work that had to be done to kill him.
It was one thing for Merlin to try getting himself killed.
But it was quite another to have somebody else attempt to assassinate him.
And Cara had said all of this had happened two measly days ago…which meant Bayard had been planning all of this long before he had even met Merlin. Bayard had greeted him as if they were old friends during their first meeting, knowing the plan was being set in motion. He made Merlin feel as if there was a chance he could belong, talking about how he lived a life being a gay king in a world that didn't want to see such men in positions of power. Talked about magic like it should be cautioned against, but not outright destroyed. And all the while, he was planning on ruining everybody he bore the last name Pendragon. King Bayard had been given backhanded little comments to Arthur during the entire party…smiled as if he was an old friend to Merlin as he complimented him on something as simple as the designs he had chosen for their banquet…taken the attention off of Merlin with an effortless manner, when the consort had thrown himself up from his chair in an attempt to get away from Arthur's wondering fingers trying to find its way between his legs again. And then Bayard had held up three silver goblets to show off to the entire room, before handing the three of them-with only one-baring death on its insides.
"No. I am positive that the goblet is Arthur's." Cara said in a firm tone. As if there wasn't a doubt in her mind that Arthur had the cup brimming with death. And Merlin wasn't sure if it was supposed to make him feel better or worse…Bayard wasn't trying to kill Merlin off. At least not immediately. But he was still planning on trying to take advantage of him after he was the only one left standing on the throne. And being manipulated…was almost worse then taking the cup out of Arthur's hand and drinking it himself. To escape before the blue king thought Merlin was just going to slide into place to do what he was told. "I saw the cups as Bayard passed them out to you and your family. And I saw them when Bayard was deciding who would get what a few days ago. Arthur got the cup with this black etching on it…kinda like a circle. It has a small bit on the bottom that's white but the majority is black like the feathers of a raven. Just as I know your cup holds a similar marking, only in reverse. Yours has a bit of black on the top, but the majority is white…like the color of scales on the belly of a fish."
That would…actually be news to Merlin. Thinking back to when the serving girl had placed the goblets on the table in front of them…Uther had been getting on Arthur's case after Merlin had accidentally spilled about Clarissa. He had been a bit fascinated about being the one not getting into trouble, amazed it hadn't been turned around on him…that he hadn't taken a second to examine the goblet other then a brief little glance. Not even when the serving boy Arthur had been so angry about had returned and filled up his goblet until it was brimming with the water Arthur had requested for him…he'd not thought to pick up the goblet to check it out. A cup was a cup to him. Even if it was embellished with more jewels he had seen in his entire life, and obviously costing more then his entire life had been at that point.
Cara interrupted his train of thought, her voice growing high pitched as she gave into her frenzied fear, "Please, Consort Merlin…I do not want to see somebody die. I do not want to see this land turned into turmoil because of the greed that my king hides beneath his kind smiles. And I know that you and Arthur do not have the best relationship. I do know that the tension between you is far greater than any couple may have but-" Merlin stiffened at the bold mention of his failing marriage-he wondered if she had also heard all the rumors claiming Merlin to be some kind of Casanova who charmed all the respectable men of Camelot to go on dates with him-but Cara had also told him when they first met. Admitting to him that she knew their union wasn't a happy one. But there was also a great strive Merlin had, when his marriage was a display for the fodder. "…Surely you do not wish to see him dead."
Merlin's silence was the only answer she got for the longest time…
Three Minutes and Twenty Seconds to go…
